Fire and ice
by IceRiddler
Summary: Abby is breaking down shortly after Kate's death. She is in desperate need of help. Warnings for self injury, mention of Kate/Abby and mature content. Stars out as T, might shift into M later in the story.
1. The delusion of past

**The delusion of past**

"The past is not history Abby." He said, eyes black as coal, and the stare more intense than anything she'd seen in a while. Old memories keep piling onto me, like dead leaves. As if I have nothing better to do than look back at all the pages of old history. The fact that my past would never make for any part of the history didn't stop him from moralizing. I guess it was in his right, after all the lies I'd told him. Maybe it's just the way of the fathers, or rather father figures, as that was what he was to her, not her biological father at all.

Though, I have no idea how I can learn from my past. How can one learn from a past tainted with shadows, who haunts me with vague memories? A lot of the things in my memory never happened, and I remember several people from my childhood who I know never have existed now. I apparently made up a lot of thing when I was a child. I've been told I lived in a world of my own, with my own imaginary friends. I was young, so most of it I can't remember, but there is bits and pieces of it that's still sticking. Like the time I was only seven, and stormed running into the classroom screaming bloody murder. The teachers sent me home immediately after talking to me. I kept insisting a classmate of mine named Jessica had been killed and eaten by a bear. The only problems being that none of the children in the class were missing, and the nearest forest with bears where a days drive from the elementary school. After that I remember a blur of people who insisted on talking to me, and asking me all kinds of questions. No teacher even bothered to try to understand the wickedness of my mind after that, but then again I barely understood myself at that age. I lived in my own world, I didn't need any of the grown-ups in it.

I grew up to graduate from high school, loosing all my imaginary friends and the memory of them as they were replaced with living real people. I have only vague memories of my childhood, until I reached the age of 11 and they started prescribing me pills, forcing me to take them. Never quite got why they gave them to me, I suppose it was because of the delusional state of my mind at the time. Half psychological, half medical they said, the doctors said when they thought I couldn't hear them. They talked hushed about it, so I never asked too many questions. What you don't know can't hurt you, right?

I moved away from home. my masters degree in criminology and forensic science from Georgia State University. It only took so long before I got the job at NCIS, and sort of adopted Gibbs as my surrogate father or father figure if you like. The team sort of attached themselves to me, and I to them, bonding through forensic science and drinking nights down at the bar. No one who saw me would call me unhappy, but sometimes I could be a little un-abby (the team called me that when I wasn't acting like myself, but it rarely ever happened).

Then in came ex secret service agent Kate Todd. We clicked, on so many levels, until they fatal day where she never returned to the office. The day everything changed. The day that is the reason for this, and everything that has happened since. She walked in through the office doors for the first time, protecting the bastard that killed Kate. I remember hating her, from the first minute. It took only so long after that before I broke, and suddenly and truly realised that Kate would never return. It hit me hard. So hard that I could not breathe, everything hurt.

With Ziva came the change, with her the pills and the doctors came back. It's only been a week or a month at most since she first turned up at NCIS. It feels like forever. My hands are running through my hair now, making a veil of black hair in front of my face. They will not let me wear it in pig tails here. Screaming, I'm not much more than a ball of nerves. They cannot keep me here, but then they are. A world without Kate in it doesn't seem worth returning to anyway. I can feel my tears, warm, as they make rivers over my face. If she hadn't been the one to replace Kate, maybe it hadn't all gone so wrong. I know it's just another excuse. I need someone outside of me to blame for this.

Her name is Ziva David, and her brother Ari killed Kate, and his bullet should have plunged into me instead. My life might as well be over. The ice assassin and her brother ruined it.

Kate my love, can you hear me? You were and still are the fire of my life. No water or ice shall perish your flame in my heart.


	2. Falling through the mirror

**Chapter 2 - Falling through the mirror**

It was another rainy afternoon. Music blaring through her forensics lab, but it didn't bother her concentration, it rather improved it. This day was something special though, this day things were not as they should be, and all over the NCIS building different people began to realise it gradually, then suddenly. Had they been outside Abby's lab, they would have heard her play music never heard in those speakers before. Of course, no one was there at the time. Had they been, they would have heard Metallica's "One" play at an extraordinarily loud level. Another sign that not everything was as it should be. She never played Metallica, she played Plastic death, Suicide Commando, Android lust and the occasional The cure song. Never Metallica.

"This is wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong." She muttered, sitting on the floor with her knees drawn up close to her chest, rocking slightly from side to side. Over the blasting music no one could have heard it, but it wasn't meant for anyone's ears. "This isn't happening. You're too smart for your own good sometimes Abby." She whispered it, and emitting a raw growl, her head lashed backwards, baring the neck to anyone willing to attack. Beside her on the floor lay a sharp scalpel from autopsy, from the girl on the floor there was a low singing in rhythm with the music while tears made a wet trail across her face.

--

Meanwhile, in autopsy Ducky was just finishing the report of their case. Palmer was going through the inventory again, cleaning and counting everything. It was his punishment for being unreachable and too late for work for the second time that week. "Are you sure this is really nessesairy Ducky?" Palmer complained, tired of sterilizing and counting already. "Until you've learned your lesson it absolutely is Mr. Palmer." Secretly Ducky smiled with his back turned to the young assistant. Someday he would surely make an excellent M.E. He was sure of it.

"There's something missing here Ducky." The words caused no alarm to Ducky. "Are you sure Mr. Palmer. You might have been too hasty in your eagerness to be done." "I'm sure. I've been through everything twice. We're missing our best scalpel." Those words did cause slight alarm to Ducky, but no sirens went off inside him. "Where are you going Ducky?" The M.E only walked out of autopsy with a slight hurry in his step without answering or giving any inclination he even heard the young boy's question.

"Where is Gibbs?" Ducky asked Ziva, obviously observing the fact that he wasn't in his usual position at his desk. "Not here." The tone was somewhat sarcastic, but without seeming inferior at all. "I observed that." He sighed, the boss had the habit of taking off with no explanation. "Just tell him to call me when you see him. I need to speak with him right away, and he's not answering his phone." He'd almost turned around to return to his autopsy when he heard the grumpy tone of a man without his coffee behind him. "Speak to me about what Ducky?" Gibbs asked, sneaking up on him as he usually did on everyone. "Alone please?" They both walked to the elevator, not saying a word before Gibbs hit the emergency switch. "Speak up Ducky. I don't have all day." "It's about Abby. I have a bad feeling."

"She's taken Kate's death pretty lightly, too lightly if you ask me." Ducky proclaimed. "They where close Ducky, but Abby is being reasonable about it." "There's nothing reasonable about her death Jethro, and you know that as well as I do. We both also know, as the only other people, that there was more between Abby and Kate than friendship." "Is this going somewhere?" Gibbs was impatient and weary, the death of a co-worker had been hard on them all. "She's been in denial this whole time Jethro. I think she's going to break soon." "I didn't think you speculated about these things Ducky." His eyes were closed now, hoping and praying perhaps? "I'm not. There's a scalpel missing from autopsy. It's only my suspicions, but I think Abby took it." "Damnit. Why didn't I see this? She wants us to know." Gibbs swore some more while hitting the switch of the elevator quickly and pressing the button to Abby's floor in the same move.

--

_I can't remember anything_

_Can't tell if this is true or dream_

_Deep down inside I feel to scream_

_This terrible silence stops me_

The music was too loud, even by the usual Abby standards. The speakers were on the brink of being too overworked to function. The Metallica song played, drilling sorrow into the marrow of living beings nearby. The door to the lab was locked. She'd made sure no one could enter, not even Gibbs. The glass doors would not open for anyone, but they allowed a view.

Her eyes were fixed on something beyond the room, and above this world. The scalpel is hard in her hand as she holds onto it with her life. The pain inside, it's too much for just one person. All the last days, weeks, months come crashing down to her at once. The sheer pressure of it filled her with hysteric sobs. Love and pain came as a pair, she'd been told before, but had never imagined something like this.

_Now that the war is through with me_

_I'm waking up, I cannot see_

_That there is not much left of me_

_Nothing is real but pain now_

"There's no world left for me her without you Kate." Abby whispers, knowing that Kate will hear her, wherever she is. "I'm coming to you baby."

Nothing in the lab was fixed anymore. Everything floated before her. It was hard to tell the difference between the real world, and everything else. "Abby is gone" She thinks. "Nothing left of me but the endless pain." The pain, she had to make it real. It had to be real on the outside, not only inside her. The hard blade fall against her left wrist, cutting deep but missing the main vein with inches. If she had she severed it, all the blood would leave within seconds. The blood-flow is surprising to her though, she bleeds more than she ever has before. It is strangely satisfying. It is not enough. She needs more. Using her weak left arm, she makes another cut. Not as deep, but the blood keeps flowing out of her. She looks at Gibbs through the glass door when she cuts, using her fiercest stare. She's good at telling when he's watching her. Leaning down, she hears a shot and the shattering of glass, but doesn't take notice. On the floor she writes, "I", a heart and then "Kate".

Gibbs and Ducky exited the elevators running. As soon as they did, the music broke against them, and forced them to cover their ears. The sound was so alive, angry and loud it hurt their ears. Without trying to communicate they set to the lab doors to find them locked just in time to see the gruesome sight of Abby pressing the scalpel against her arm for the second time. A shock, for both of them. None of them reacted for seconds, it seemed like minutes or hours. She cut the other wrist as well, raising her head to look at Gibbs as she did. Her eyes burned in him, accusing him of her death. Failure of protection. Then she screamed. A horrible pained scream that could be head through the music, and through the walls. It woke the two men, and Gibbs reacted instinctively. Reaching for his gun, Gibbs shoots at the glass, and it shatters. He runs to her, at her side within a second, almost crying himself when he sees all the blood, and what she wrote in her own blood.

"Why did she leave me Gibbs?" Abby screams sobbing into his arms, she released all of her anger and pain. The music is suddenly gone. Her arms clutching around him for her dear life, bleeding all over his shirt. "Shhh. Everything is going to be okay. I promise you."

"I love her Gibbs, but there's no more Kate left here for me to love. Why? Why her? WHY NOT YOU??"

_Hold my breath as I wish for death_

_Oh please, God, wake me_

Abby is surprisingly strong for someone who has lost so much blood. When the two men try to force her to stay still, and calm down, she hits her fists against Gibbs's chest. He doesn't even try to stop her, signalising to Ducky to step away. Grabbing her wrists, he forces her to look at him, and he sees her pain. "I would trade places with her if I could Abby." His voice doesn't have a hint of a lie in it, but she disregards him anyway, driving herself into hysteria. The blood flows gradually slower from her arms, and turns darker. Gibbs doesn't realise which tears are hers or his, not even realising his own sobs. "Please Abby." Desperation clear in his voice now. "Make her come back Gibbs." She eventually blubber as she passes out, clenching to him again.

Gibbs and Ducky look at each other in panic. Ducky puts compression's on her wounds to stop the bleeding, and calls emergency at once.

Gibbs holds Abby in his arms, trying to protect her, and cries into her hair. Both of them are covered in her blood and he holds his breath to make sure she's still breathing. There's not much of a pulse she has, and Gibbs nears complete panic when the medical team finally arrives. Ducky squeezes his shoulder reasurringly.

"Please step back Sir." Someone orders him, and he obeys. Still in shock, and still crying. "Can I please go with her to the hospital?" "Are you family Sir?" "Practically I am. I'm Special agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, her boss." They look at him sympathetically, before lifting her up on the stretcher. "I'm sorry Sir, only family allowed. You can follow us though, but I advice you get cleaned up first." Only then does he realise he's covered in her blood. He watches them leave with her looking more dead than alive. His heart breaks at the sight.

"How do we fix this Ducky?" Gibbs asked with a pained voice, but knowing it had no immediate answer.


	3. Stitching up the wounds

**Chapter 3 - Stitching up the wounds **

Words. The words is spinning. I'm lying rigid against the bed. Sheets feel like glue against my naked thighs. I can feel the drugs as I struggle against them. They bring me down, and pin me against the bed. So hard. I cannot breathe. My own chest is crushing me. My mind, unable to stop the unreasonable train of thoughts, and I fall against myself, clawing helplessly for a truth. Everything hurts. Everything is suddenly bright light against my white skin. My hands are nailed to the sides of the bed, so I try to move and wince in agony. So strong it cannot be real, but I can't cry for there are no more tears. Robbed from me.

"Calm down ma'am. You're hurting yourself." A blurry person above me somewhere, female my scientist mind tells me. I ignore that part of me. "Go away." At least that is what I intended to say. It all comes out as unidentifiable babble. What is going on? What is happening here? I can feel the confusion on my face, and hysteria grabs me by the chest. A strange sound pierce the room. It takes me a moment to realise it's my own sobbing screams. It's all so jumbled up inside of me, there's no more up or down, right or wrong. Science? Where is it now?

"Stay calm ma'am. The drugs are still effecting your system. Wait a second and I'll get you some water." Do I still cry when she leaves? I still can't see anything. All is just a blur. I try hard to recollect what happened and how I ended up here, drugged and tied to a bed.

She returns, as she said she would. I have no idea how long she's been gone. My head is fuzzy, as if it's stuffed with cotton. I'm walled up inside myself. The isolation seems complete now. Time and space is gone, and I can only be inside my own mind.

"Here take a sip." The woman is offering a straw to my mouth, I see the fuzzy edges of things, but nothing of memory seems to come back. The water is cool and refreshening in my dry mouth. I swallow once, sip again, but can't seem to swallow. More tears run across my face. The worlds fades into black for a second, before I clearly see the woman standing next to my bed, wiping me with a soft cloth. "Take it easy miss." I obey. It hurts to not move as well. Inside me, that's where the pain comes from. I'm missing half of me?

"Wh...a.t." I manage to stutter, with a tongue think and swollen refusing to move at my command. Nothing works, and I understand nothing of this situation. "You wonder what happened?" She asks for me, understanding my obvious lack of everything. "I'll tell you Abby, just don't try to talk yet." I nod, my heart drums against my chest, already the panic is raising in me. How did I get here? Am I supposed to know?

"You were injured at work two days ago. Do you remember?" I shake my head. Work? "Do you remember coming into work?" I shake again, and she looks distraught. "I can't tell you much then, but I can tell that you were rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. Any of it coming back to you?" Still completely blank. "They took you too the emergency. Reports say you screamed when you regained consciousness after they fixed on your wounds." Sudden images and sounds come rushing back to me. The hospital. White walls, and foreign smells. Confusion and pain, I remember screams, my own and plenty of others. None of the voices or faces are familiar. "You remember the hospital?" I nod, silently, closing my eyes so I can't see her when I'm crying. The world is bad. It just needs to be blocked out and ignored, then it'll go away. I hope.

"Get some rest miss, you need it after what you've been through." The woman says, I can barely hear through the noise in my own head. Everything spins, spins so powerfully that I wish I could get off this carousel, but this is life, and the scientist in me screams that I can't just quit or cancel my membership. It's life or nothing. I have the distinct feeling I didn't chose to get here. I chose the other way. The woman leaves, I hear the door closing behind her and I hear her locking it too.

Alone again with my thoughts.

I open my eyes, craning my neck as best I can and stare down at my body. I need to know why I am here, what injury I sustained at work and why no one has told me why I'm here.

My arms! They're in bandages. A flash, and I see the blade in my hand. So much blood. They stitched up the wounds there obviously, but forgot the ones in my soul. I can feel all the pain, but I still can't focus enough to remember why it is there. Maybe I love someone? Maybe I lost someone?

"Hurts." I mumble, looking at the room with closed eyes. I jump when someone next to me speaks. "Where does it hurt Abs?" My eyes remain closed even when I recognise the voice as someone I should know. A shot of strange feelings render me motionless for what seems like forever. "Gibbs?" Voice is cracked up, and broken in many ways. I shut my eyes tighter, and I feel that one single tear running down my dry face. Instantly I know I don't really cry often, and this time it really hurts.

"I'm here Abby, don't cry. Everything is going to be all right." I head him, but deep inside I could find the lie in his voice. I managed a smile though, in the general direction of Gibbs. "You shouldn't lie like that Gibbs, it's not nice." I chuckled, but felt the clutches of sleep grab at me from the dark. A stifled cry sounded in the room, before everything faded away.

Waking again, I squeeze my eyes shut, listening intently, trying to sense if some other presence occupies the room. "Anyone there?" I whisper quietly. No answer, but there is someone. I can feel it, and then I suddenly know. "Gibbs?" I ask, but already knowing he's there. "Yeah, still here Abs. Not going anywhere." Smiling, I hoist myself up on the elbows. "Water?" I manage to croak, then fall back onto the pillow. He rustles on my left side, before can I feel his hand cupping my face, holding it up to let me drink carefully, from a straw. A few sips is all I can take, and he takes it away before I choke on the water.

My eyes are still safely closed, and I stay silent. _Please, whatever God is out there, make him go away, make everything disappear. _I pray, under my breath.

"Abby?" My face move towards the location of his voice, with certain type of automatic instinct. "Would you please open your eyes for me Abby?" I shake my head, refusing to even have my head turned his way. "Please?" Gibbs rarely says please, but I'm his favourite. He's more gentle to me than the rest of the team, but his silent tactics isn't going to work this time. I have to make him realise that he can't fix this. I'm broken beyond repair.

"I won't go away until you open my eyes for me Abby." "Not gonna fall for that." I whisper. "I'm broken, and you have to see that this is not something you can fix." At the end of my words, I find myself crying. "I know Abs. I was so scared I'd loose you earlier." I sense real pain in his voice, and this finally makes me open my eyes. They stick to him, like his stare into mine, and this contest can only drive us both further into pain. I master up the strength to speak, slowly and painfully speaking my mind. "I wish you had Gibbs. I'm already gone, there's nothing left to save." He looks stunned, like I've never seen him before. I've never seen Gibbs in pain before. Have I a real reason for causing him this?

"NOOOOOO!" I scream, suddenly remembering the huge aching gap of pain and suffering in my heart and soul. My body is convulsing in pain and hysteria after seconds. Gibbs grips my arms to calm me down. It hurts. His arms are red with blood when he pushes the button, causing a nurse to come immediately. The needle doesn't hurt as it glides into me, for it knocks me out and is welcome, but I shiver as I see Gibbs crying when I pass out.


	4. Calling grace

**Chapter 4: Calling grace**

"What is your relationship with Miss Abby Sciuto, Sir?" The nurse asked, after the sedation finally set in and calmed her down. She disposed of the used syringe, to look up at the silver haired man standing next to the young girls bed. He seemed to ignore her question. "She's bleeding again." He simply stated while drying the tears shed for her. "I'll call someone to change the bandages. The doctor and psychiatrist wants to see you now Sir." Gibbs sighed, and hesitated to leave her bedside. He reached down, planted a kiss on her temple and reluctantly left the room to follow the nurse. "I'll be right back Abby:" He whispered while quickly exiting the room, only looking back at her as he closed the door behind him.

Gibbs walked what seemed like endless corridors, but in reality he knew it could only have taken him and the nurse less than a minute to arrive at the open door at the end of some anonymous hall. Beyond the door frame he could see two people standing there, one wearing white hospital robes and the other dressed in a fancy and probably very expensive suit. The whole situation wasn't something liked at all, truth be told he didn't like it one bit. He hated being at the sterile hospital, smelling of disinfectants, and the feeling of hopelessness that stuck to the whole place. At the moment he knew the two professionals wanted to talk to him about moving her from the psychic ward of the hospital to something more permanent and able to really help, but that was all he really did know.

"Hello Mr. Gibbs." The two in the room greeted him soberly, with faces of sincere grief, which didn't exactly surprise Gibbs, Abby was a really beautiful woman. He supposed any man or woman who would see her mangled body, only saw a broken person, and would not have any idea why anyone that beautiful could possibly do that to themselves.

"Hi" His voice strained, keeping all contact with other people short for convenience. "Thank you for coming Sir." Momentarily Gibbs wondered what he was doing there, being briefed by doctors, instead of Abbys immediate family, and was just about to say so when the men in front of him cut his train of thoughts short.

"I'm sure you are wondering what you are doing here." The man he assumed was the doctor spoke, and made a slight pause in which Gibbs confirmed the statement with a slight nod. "Said shortly, miss Abby Sciuto put you up as her next of kin. You have to act for her, as she is not capable of making any decisions at the moment." Gibbs had a short intake of breath, drawn hard into his lungs. She considered him up as next of kin! It was truly both an honour and a burden. Now he had to sign her life away to someone, he knew it was his decision, but she had been the one with the sharp blade. There really was no decision to make, he'd sign whatever paper they put in front of him. "What do you need me to sign?" His voice was the sound of inward defeat. They looked at him surprised for a second, before regaining composure and retrieving some papers for him. "It is a form signing her care over to the best asylum in town the moment she is physically well enough to be transferred. We will keep her here until then. You can of course chose not to commit her to the asylum. It is your choice, but the psychiatrist here would not recommend it." His hand gestured to the man standing behind him as he spoke the man's profession.

Is there really a choice? Not really. Abby needed care. She wouldn't bounce back from this by her self, and help was generally not something she accepted willingly. "There isn't much of a choice though, is there?" He asked, knowing the answer before they confirmed it. "Ok, I'll sign. Just get her the best there is." "We will Sir." They thanked him for jutting down his signature, then followed him out of the door, pointing him in the right direction back to Abby's room.

Back at her door, he groaned inwardly and hesitated to enter. He didn't want to see her lying there so fragile in that white hospital bed, with skin that looked transparent and as white as the sheets. Abby should fly, not fall. He was praying to any higher power that would listen, calling out to grace.


	5. A thousand anonymous deaths

**Chapter 5: A thousand anonymous deaths**

The small favors make life worth living. That I know for certain, chained to a hospital bed as I am. Even through my hazy mind, I remember a vast deal of pain, and then more pain only change is that this time it's more on the physical side of it. For some strange reason, my mind seems reluctant to let me remember the chain of events that lead to hospitalization. Some time ago, I encountered a crossroad, but did I choose the wrong path? The answer can no longer be hunted after; the fog constant and always growing. It is out of my grasp to reach up and clear away the confusion, but for now I am content with my clouded recollections. It hurts to remember. Maybe without recalling the source of my agony it will all hurt less?

Gibbs was here, until I told him to go home to catch some sleep, and a change of clothes. It's useless asking him to stay away. I'd beg him too though, if I had the energy. I know this is something that I have to work through alone; the gaping hole in my soul is left as a proof of that. This bed is uncomfortable. If I shift position, the restraints itch and dig into my flesh, so I don't. Making not moving an art is pretty much boring after a few hours.

Somehow it's all less painful now. I remember my screams and wild trashing when I had a glimpse of memory, it seems weeks ago, but in reality it would be closer to a day ago. Since then the veil of forgetfulness has been lowered, and again I see nothing into the darkness there. As long as I lie perfectly still and control my breathing, I can for mere minutes at the time forget all about my bodily hurts.

"Abby! Abby?"The voice is dully familiar, like something I've heard before but never bothered to really notice. Now it is soft and careful, perhaps even a bit inquiring. I shut my eyes tightly without thinking; maybe if pretend to be asleep she will go away? Of course I should have known better, as if I could fool a trained Mossad agent. "Abby, I know you're awake, so stop pretending to be asleep." The annoying words make me cringe, and I reluctantly open my eyes to look at her, Ziva David. I look at her. Eyes only reflect.

"What are you doing here?" I snap, rather irritated at her for showing up at all. "I don't want company. I don't particularly want to be here either. If it were up to me, I'd be home right now." While I speak, I can closely see that nothing of emotion can be said to show on Ziva. "But it's not up to you Abby. You tried to kill yourself. That is more than serious; it's a scream for help." The retort came quickly, halting all of my objections to Ziva being there for a minute or two, and rather focusing on her lies. "Fuck you. It wasn't a cry for help, because I wasn't supposed to survive." My voice, kept calm as I speak.

I could die a thousand anonymous death and none of them would care, but since I am me, their friend and trusted co-worker they have to overwhelm me with flowers and kindness. It makes me sick. I do not want to be treated nicely. I want to be ignored. Give me anonymity. Give me peace, quiet and a bottle of vodka.


End file.
